Mike used to be my boss. He owns this restaurant, a little Italian place, the type that costs a fortune and you have to wait forever to get a table. When I quit, he seemed happy and asked me to dinner. He’s older than my dad but I always thought he was hot so I agreed. What the hell? He picked me up in his swanky car. It had an expensive feel, like everything about him. Once I got in he leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Baby, are you ready for a great night?” He has always called me baby. I figure he doesn’t remember my name. I’m just the new girl on his menu. But it’s ok, I plan on making him remember. I like him. Maybe it’s that he’s so authoritative. He would yell at his employees but he never me. He’d just give me that fatherly look and I would cringe. He’s brilliant and hot. He has these sharp, green eyes, always a little grey stubble and his hair slicked back. He dresses well, usually in mossy shades to accentuate his eyes. He knows his assets and uses them.
I smiled at him, “Of course. You always make something happen.” He grinned and put his hand on my bare knee as he drove. Very forward. Most guys I’d push away but I was a curious what he wanted and didn’t want to offend him so early in the date.
“This that skirt I bought you?” I nodded. He sent me this skirt for our date with a note. He wrote that he pays, I can wear something he likes. Part of me thought about not wearing it but it was cute. It’s a short school girl skirt. That’s kind of his thing. He used to swat all the girl’s butts at work. Everyone at the restaurant knows he has that all-American love of the school girl uniform and playing Daddy. Maybe that’s why I like him. Once he even toyed with the idea of having the girls at his restaurant wear uniforms. A school girl version of Hooters. “Looks nice. A bit long, though, don’t you think?” He winked at me and I swatted his hand.
We pulled into his restaurant’s parking lot and he parked in his space. He jumped out and walked around to open my door, looking very cool. I took his arm, enjoying the gentleman treatment. Guys my age don’t do that. So we went in and sat at his booth in the corner. I tried to sit opposite him but he pulled me to his side. The table had one of those short red and white checked table cloths and a candle. Two or three other couples sat huddled together, holding hands. Mike ordered us some sort of expensive wine.
We drank and he kept pushing my skirt higher and higher, telling me it was just too long. Slowly his hand worked its way up and came in contact with my thong. Black and silky. I tried to squirm away but he looked at me in such a way that I held still. I whispered, “What if the waiter comes out?” He smiled and pushed my legs open further. His thick finger was sliding in and out of me while I squirmed. I had heard he liked public but didn’t realize how public. I was uncomfortable but impressed with how confident he was that I wanted him.
“Don’t you think the boy would like a show? You can spice up his evening.” I bit my lip, feeling nervous. I know he liked making me nervous even more than he enjoyed making me wet. Our server was hurrying our food over as quickly as possible to please the boss. I was relieved I didn’t know him. Maybe he replaced me. I tried to close my legs and push down my skirt but Mike stopped me. My effort shifted the little table cloth and drew more attention to what he was doing than if I had been still. The waiter stumbled. He was about my age, twenty-ish, and looked cool other than the shade of red his face had become. He carefully put our plates before us but it was obvious he was watching something else. When the waiter left the hand remained.
“This looks good, doesn’t it?” Mike smiled at me calmly. I wasn’t hungry but he insisted I eat. I was rude if I didn’t. Our waiter came back to our table multiple times to refill our barely touched glasses and watch as his boss fingered me. It was obvious the boy was excited and Mike pointed it out. “Think he’s ever fingered a girl?” I shrugged.
I wasn’t concerned about the waiter. “Can we leave? Please?”
Mike finished his meal with one hand. “Would you like some dessert?”
“I want you.”
He looked annoyed, “I know you’re wet and the waiter is about to cream his pants but do what Daddy says. Be a good girl and finish your meal.” I could see the bulge in his pants but I knew he didn’t want sex, he wanted control.
I ate a couple of bites before asking again, “Can we please leave?”
He sighed. “First you have to clean up your mess.” I looked at the table but then his wet fingers were at my lips. I opened up and sucked, eager to leave. I again tried to close my legs but he shook his head. “Our waiter would like a final look to remember you by.” Almost on cue, the waiter appeared. His jaw dropped and Mike laughed, “Son, you need to find a girl to take care of that.” He nodded to the waiter’s slight bulge.
The guy became even more red, “Yes, sir.”
